


What's That Smell?

by AnonAutobot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, Involuntary Arousal, Kink Meme, M/M, Sexual Frustration, Sticky, Trigger Scent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonAutobot/pseuds/AnonAutobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for this kink meme prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=10225374#t10225374<br/>REQ: G1, Red Alert/Any, Dubcon, trigger scent, involuntary arousal, sexual frustration/desperation<br/>So, everyone knows Red Alert has an incredibly sensitive and advanced sense of smell, right? (His character-bio says he can detect odors as weak as 2 parts per million.) So, for the sake of this prompt, lets assume that every Cybertronian has a unique scent that they emit when they're aroused, or want/just had sex (just like most organic species)<br/>The grand majority of Cybertronians don't consciously recognize the scent, because their olfactory sensors aren't strong enough to detect it.  Red Alert is not part of that majority. He can (and does) detect the scent, which triggers an immediate biological response---namely, it lights him up like an Inferno. (pun totally and shamelessly intended)</p><p>With that explanation out of the way, here's the prompt:</p><p>For one reason or another, just about everyone Red Alert runs into is emitting this arousal-triggering scent. Red, being the professional that he is, tries his best to get through his workday without taking time to seek relief; however, this gets progressively harder and harder to do as the day goes on, and he's constantly barraged by the trigger-scent.<br/>And what's worse: no one knows what's happening to Red, or rather, what they're doing to him. They just think he's being unusually twitchy because he's stressed, and by following him around and trying to comfort him/make sure he's okay, they unintentionally make his problems worse.<br/>Eventually, someone figures out what's really going on with Red, and they decide to help him---in any sexually gratifying way the author would like. At this point, poor Red has been driven to the brink, so he is really too desperate to refuse the offer.<br/>Bonus points if the mech/femme helping him out repeatedly asks him if they should stop, because his desperate moans/gasps make him sound like they're hurting him terribly (when they're really doing the opposite)</p>
    </blockquote>





	What's That Smell?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this kink meme prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=10225374#t10225374  
> REQ: G1, Red Alert/Any, Dubcon, trigger scent, involuntary arousal, sexual frustration/desperation  
> So, everyone knows Red Alert has an incredibly sensitive and advanced sense of smell, right? (His character-bio says he can detect odors as weak as 2 parts per million.) So, for the sake of this prompt, lets assume that every Cybertronian has a unique scent that they emit when they're aroused, or want/just had sex (just like most organic species)  
> The grand majority of Cybertronians don't consciously recognize the scent, because their olfactory sensors aren't strong enough to detect it. Red Alert is not part of that majority. He can (and does) detect the scent, which triggers an immediate biological response---namely, it lights him up like an Inferno. (pun totally and shamelessly intended)
> 
> With that explanation out of the way, here's the prompt:
> 
> For one reason or another, just about everyone Red Alert runs into is emitting this arousal-triggering scent. Red, being the professional that he is, tries his best to get through his workday without taking time to seek relief; however, this gets progressively harder and harder to do as the day goes on, and he's constantly barraged by the trigger-scent.  
> And what's worse: no one knows what's happening to Red, or rather, what they're doing to him. They just think he's being unusually twitchy because he's stressed, and by following him around and trying to comfort him/make sure he's okay, they unintentionally make his problems worse.  
> Eventually, someone figures out what's really going on with Red, and they decide to help him---in any sexually gratifying way the author would like. At this point, poor Red has been driven to the brink, so he is really too desperate to refuse the offer.  
> Bonus points if the mech/femme helping him out repeatedly asks him if they should stop, because his desperate moans/gasps make him sound like they're hurting him terribly (when they're really doing the opposite)

Red Alert wrinkled his nose, trying to place the smell. Bluestreak had just passed him, and he stopped, turning around to stare after the gunner. He glanced back at the way Bluestreak had come. Training Room. Red Alert shook his head, dismissing the scent for now, putting it down to perhaps some fluid from overexertion. Though a small part of his processor logged the scent and his systems reacted. Red Alert straightened his shoulders, trying to rid himself of the feeling.

There it was again. He turned the corner to see Trailbreaker and Hound springing away from one another. Hound gave him an embarrassed smile. Trailbreaker couldn’t meet his optics. He stared at them both.  
“Fraternising in the corridors is not safe.” He informed them, continuing on his way. The smell lingered in his nasal receptors, burning its way through his systems.

A few hours later and the feeling was still crawling through his systems. He’d identified the scent, it was hard not to after encountering Hound and Trailbreaker. The scent of arousal. Pre- or post-facing. And it was heating his own systems up. Normally, few mechs could actually smell the scent. It was greater in the actual act of interfacing, but it didn’t mean that it couldn’t be smelt away from the berth. Or wherever the interfacing had taken place, Red Alert thought ruefully, remembering Bluestreak. He was tempted to check the logs of the training room, but didn’t. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to feel like this. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He certainly wasn’t going to lower himself to self-stimulation whilst on duty, and Inferno was away with the Protectobots, teaching them how to deal with wildfires.

“Red, I got the reports from the patrols for ya ta look over.” Ironhide spoke into the comm at the door. Red Alert let him in, and then immediately wished he hadn’t as _that_ scent assaulted him again. He must have made a noise, because Ironhide gave him a strange look as he sat down.  
“You okay, Red? I told Optimus that ya oughta take more time off than ya do.”  
“Did you?” Red Alert’s voice was flat. He’d had this conversation with countless mechs, and was tired of it. He knew his limits.  
“Yeah, was just talking ta him before I brought the reports down to ya.” Talking. Right. If Red Alert believed that, Megatron was going to call and surrender.  
“Thank you.” Red Alert took the reports and started scanning through them, effectively dismissing Ironhide. Ironhide stayed sitting there for a few moments, just watching Red Alert.  
“Okay. I’ll see ya later, Red.” He stood up and left. Red Alert put down the datapads and sighed, rubbing his face. That scent seemed to be everywhere today, and it was driving him… well… it was arousing him.  
“Right.” Red Alert steeled himself to step outside the security center. He had a few reports to deliver to Prowl, and he needed to refuel. The irrational part of his processor had tried to calculate how long he could go without refuelling or delivering these reports to Prowl. Anything to avoid having to leave the security room and potentially smell that scent again. But he couldn’t come up with any valid reason that wouldn’t make him seem paranoid. So out into the Ark he went.

He made his way to Prowl’s office, and everywhere he turned, he could smell arousal. He paused, flicking his plating and trying to calm himself.  
“Red Alert? You okay?” Bumblebee tapped his arm, concerned.  
“I’m fine.” And you smell like you’ve just been ‘faced, he added mentally. Because Bumblebee did. Ah… that would be why… Cliffjumper swaggered up and stopped too.  
“Everything okay?”  
“Everything is fine.” Red Alert answered.  
“Was just checking on Red Alert.” Bumblebee gave Cliffjumper a warm smile. Cliffjumper nodded and looked at Red Alert.  
“You okay?” He checked, concerned because Bumblebee was concerned. Red Alert nodded.  
“I’m fine.” He said tightly, tipping his helm and walking off. They both smelt of ‘facing. He began to wish he hadn’t left the security room.

“Prowl?” He tapped smartly on the chime outside Prowl’s office.  
“One moment, Red Alert.” Prowl’s voice sounded a little flustered and Red Alert automatically tensed. The door lock disengaged a moment later and the door slid open. Red Alert stepped in, optics sweeping the room. He immediately latched on to the scent of arousal and barely suppressed a groan.  
“Y’okay there, Red?” Jazz was sitting in the chair opposite Prowl, legs up on the desk, looking thoroughly relaxed. Red Alert however, knew different. His sensors picked up elevated temperatures, which combined with the scent, meant only one thing. He’d interrupted them.  
“Yes.” Now more aroused than before, he deposited the datapads with his reports on them on Prowl’s desk and left without another word.  
“Something’s wrong with him…” Jazz commented, staring after Red Alert.

Walking up the corridor to the rec room, Red Alert tried to control himself. His own arousal was raging almost out of control. He was actually close to locking himself in the security office and taking matters into his own hands.

As he entered the rec room, the smell seemed to assault him. Was every mech on the base interfacing except him? He let out a small whimper, prompting Hoist and Grapple to give him a curious look. They smelt too. Primus, everyone smelt. He focussed on the energon dispenser, ignoring everyone else in the room and walked towards it. Getting himself a cube of energon, he sat at a table in the corner where he could see everyone. And smell everyone. His spike was a constant pressure against his panel. Sipping his energon, he willed himself to forget about it.

He relaxed a little as his energy levels increased, and made the mistake of gazing around the rec room. His optics landed on the various couples; Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Hoist and Grapple, Hound and Trailbreaker. Ratchet and Wheeljack. Who were kissing. In full view of everyone and not caring a bit. Red Alert twitched, and for once, it was nothing to do with paranoia or security breaches. He finished his cube quickly and left the room at a sharp pace.

Red Alert headed straight back to the security office, desperate to get some relief from the smell that was assaulting his sensor array. As he passed an intersection, he caught a glimpse of Smokescreen and Jazz talking. Smokescreen looked up just at the moment he walked passed, but Red Alert ignored them and continued walking. His spark sank as he heard footsteps heading after him.  
“Red, wait up.” Out of courtesy, Red Alert stopped and turned to see Smokescreen hurrying towards him. He did not want to be stopped. He just wanted to carry on back to his nice secure security office where he could overload himself in peace. Then maybe he might be able to get some work done.

“Jazz said you were acting a little strange.” Smokescreen said when he’d caught up to Red Alert.  
“Did he?” Red Alert shrugged.  
“Yeah.” Smokescreen stopped Red Alert with a hand on his arm. “Told me that you’d interrupted him and Prowl.” Red Alert tried hard not to remember that, shifting impatiently.  
“I got the impression I’d interrupted them.” He admitted stiffly. Smokescreen’s hand was still on his arm, and he could feel its warmth spreading throughout his sensornet.  
“And I heard you caught Hound and Trailbreaker at it too.” Smokescreen chuckled. Red Alert shifted again, moving his arm away from Smokescreen’s hand.  
“I think you and me need to have a little talk, Red.” Smokescreen gripped his arm again, intent on leading Red Alert to his office.  
“We do not need to talk.” Red Alert pulled his arm away. “I need to get back to work.”  
“You mean you need to get back to overload.” Smokescreen murmured, low enough so only Red Alert could hear. Not that there was anyone else in the corridor. His comment had Red Alert spluttering, and it was easy for him to lead Red Alert to his office.

Locking the door, Smokescreen turned to face Red Alert who looked a little confused at his location.  
“I’m guessing you can smell their arousal?” He asked conversationally as he moved to get a couple of cubes of energon out of a cupboard. “I can detect their EM fields.” He dropped his wings to emphasise the point.  
“Here, drink this and sit down.” Smokescreen handed Red Alert a cube and sat down on the sofa. “It’s only mid-grade.” He explained as Red Alert stared at his cube. Slowly, he sank down onto the sofa.  
“There are days when it seems that everyone’s at it.” Smokescreen said, leaning back and taking a sip from his cube. Red Alert snorted.  
“I don’t know about you, but I hate going around the Ark when they’re all in that sort of mood. Sets my sensors tingling.” He looked at Red Alert. “And other parts.” Red Alert shifted uncomfortably as Smokescreen added that bit of information.  
“I can imagine it’s worse for you.” Smokescreen carried on, not expecting an answer from Red Alert. “I know how sensitive your sensor array is.” He placed a hand on Red Alert’s knee. “I can help you with that, if you want?” He offered. Red Alert could smell that scent again and moaned.

Taking that as an answer, Smokescreen moved, taking the untouched cube of energon from Red Alert and subspacing it along with the rest of his cube. He then leant, turning Red Alert’s head towards him and kissed him. That earned him another moan.  
“Do you want this?” Smokescreen asked softly, making optic contact with Red Alert.  
“I need…” Red Alert’s answer trailed off as he struggled to voice what it was he actually needed.  
“To overload?” Red Alert nodded. Smokescreen nodded slowly, not wanting to rush Red Alert. Red Alert squirmed, and Smokescreen couldn’t hold back his smile. He wanted to help. He knew how maddening it could be, and that was just as a Praxian and being able to sense others EM fields. Let alone being able to smell their arousal.

Smokescreen slipped off the sofa, kneeling in front of Red Alert and coaxing his legs apart. He could feel how hot Red Alert’s plating was; a sure sign of his unwanted arousal. The least Smokescreen thought he could do was give him a good overload. Coaxing Red Alert to lean back and relax, Smokescreen kissed the insides of his thighs, moving his way up to Red Alert’s interface panel.  
“Open for me?” He urged. He could feel the heat behind the panel, and wondered just how long Red Alert had put up with his arousal. Red Alert let his panel slide open without a word, spike pressurising immediately. As soon as the panel moved, Smokescreen could see the lubricant built up in his valve. With a soft purr, Smokescreen leant forward, lapping at the lubricant. Red Alert hissed and jerked. Smokescreen stopped immediately.  
“Red?” He looked up questioningly. “You okay?”  
“Just… sensitive.” Red Alert murmured, optics a little unfocussed. Nodding, Smokescreen lowered his head again, kissing around the rim of Red Alert’s valve. Red Alert moaned and spread his legs a little wider, giving Smokescreen more access. Smokescreen took advantage, pressing closer and moving up to lick Red Alert’s spike. Red Alert gave another moan, hands coming down to rest on Smokescreen’s helm.

“Sure?” Smokescreen checked again, giving Red Alert every opportunity to back out of this.  
“Yes…” Red Alert’s answer was half-moan, half-request as his hips tilted up. Smokescreen leant forward, taking Red Alert’s spike into his mouth. One of Red Alert’s hands curled around his chevron, but it only served to arouse Smokescreen. He moaned, the vibration causing an echoing moan from Red Alert. Smokescreen could smell their arousal now, both Red Alert’s and his. He clamped his legs together, wanting to concentrate on Red Alert.

Overload came unsurprisingly quickly for Red Alert. He’d been aroused for most of the day, and Smokescreen was rather talented. He bucked up, driving his spike into Smokescreen’s mouth and overloaded, static clouding his vision. Smokescreen moaned as transfluid flooded his mouth, swallowing it down before pulling back slowly, careful of how sensitive Red Alert’s spike was likely to be. He took a moment to just sit and look at Red Alert; features relaxed after his overload.

“Feel better?” He asked, moving to sit next to Red Alert. To his surprise, Red Alert moved closer, leaning against him.  
“Much, thank you.” He sniffed experimentally. “But you’re not.”  
“No.” Smokescreen knew it would be useless to try and deny it.  
I can help you with that, if you want?” He threw Smokescreen’s words back at him. Smokescreen stared down at him.  
“You serious?”  
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t. You said yourself how difficult it can be for us…”  
“Yeah.” Smokescreen nodded. “I know you’ve normally got Inferno though.”  
“True. But that doesn’t mean I’m against another mech… helping me out. Or against helping said mech out in return.”  
“Well, if you’re offering, I’m certainly not going to turn you down. You’re an attractive mech, Red.” Red Alert ducked his head at the compliment.  
“You’re not unattractive yourself.” Red Alert admitted, glancing up at Smokescreen. How he could be shy after he’d just had his spike buried in the mech’s mouth, he had no idea.  
“Thanks, Red.” Smokescreen smiled at him, tipping Red Alert’s face up so he could kiss him. Red Alert moved as he kissed Smokescreen, straddling him with a boldness Smokescreen hadn’t expected. He supposed part of it had to do with the relief that he was feeling. And the other part? Well, he just envied Inferno.

Red Alert writhed on Smokescreen’s lap as his neck cables were kissed. Smokescreen’s hands on his hips kept him from falling off. Smokescreen gasped, his own panel sliding open. Red Alert reached down to grasp his spike as it emerged, lifting himself before Smokescreen had recovered from the hand on his spike. Red Alert sank down over Smokescreen’s spike, groaning at the sensation as it filled his valve.  
“Frag, Red.” Smokescreen gripped Red Alert’s hips as his spike disappeared into that warm, tight valve. Red Alert obediently stilled, giving Smokescreen time to adjust. And himself. He nuzzled against Smokescreen’s neck, kissing the exposed cables there. Smokescreen groaned, tipping his head back and giving Red Alert more room. Taking advantage, Red Alert leant up, moving himself off Smokescreen’s spike to mouth at the cables, kissing his way up Smokescreen’s helm to press a kiss on his chevron. Smokescreen gasped, bucking up. Red Alert moaned, pushing back down onto Smokescreen’s spike. Bracing himself on Smokescreen’s shoulders, and with Smokescreen’s hands on his hips, Red Alert raised himself up and sank back down, setting up a rhythm that was easy for them both to maintain.

It didn’t take long before Smokescreen was pulling Red Alert back down, thrusting up and overloading, transfluid spilling into Red Alert’s valve. Red Alert threw back his head and cried out as he overloaded again, valve clamping down on Smokescreen’s spike, milking the last of his overload from him. They slumped on the sofa, Red Alert resting his head against Smokescreen’s shoulder and making no attempt to move.  
“Thank you.” Red Alert mumbled.  
“It should be me thanking you.” Smokescreen chuckled. Red Alert murmured something, but Smokescreen couldn’t quite catch it.  
“Yeah, well. Put it this way. Anytime you get the urge and Inferno isn’t around to satisfy you… you can always come to me.”  
“I might well take you up on that offer.” Red Alert nodded, before pushing himself upright with a sigh. “I should return to duty.”  
“Mmmm?” Smokescreen checked the duty roster. “Actually, your shift ended ten minutes ago.”  
“Oh.”  
“So, you don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to…” Smokescreen let the offer dangle there, hoping Red Alert might take him up on it.  
“I don’t, do I?” The look Red Alert gave Smokescreen made him jealous of Inferno all over again. But Inferno wasn’t here right now… And Smokescreen was never one to pass up an opportunity such as this.


End file.
